Thy lips are pomegranate
Filled with Red fluid;
They come and burst into nectar
Creating a sensation of passion.
They are sour -
When are filled with resentment,
No! No! Do not get that;
For they are the sign of destruction.
Hold on! Do not get wild
Let me feel the burning sensation -
The passion, the sound, the music,
Smack me gently and then go deep.